Lark and Wren

Well, there was a Priest and a Church, and the town was at least on the road. It wasn't the road they had left; this one they'd struck after following the stream for a couple of days rather than backtrack over the elven- king's territory. And they might be able to get lodging and food at one of the town's two inns. . . .

Talaysen left her at the marketplace in the center of the town, and she was grateful for a chance to find some fresh supplies. The storm had washed away or ruined most of their food, and they had been living off the land thanks to the fish in the stream and her scant knowledge of forest edibles. That had been mostly limited to the fact that cattail roots could be eaten raw, knowing what watercress looked like, and recognition of some bramble- bushes with fruit on them.

Their money hadn't washed away, but it was hard to get a squirrel to part with a load of nuts in exchange for a copper penny.

She had just about completed her final purchase, when she turned and caught sight of Talaysen striding towards her through the light crowd. Most people wouldn't have noticed, and he was being quite carefully courteous to the other shoppers as he made his way past and around them-but she saw the set jaw, and the stiff way that he held his head, and knew he was furious.

'What's wrong?' she whispered, as he reached her side. He shook his head.

'Not here,' he said quietly, and she heard the anger in his voice. 'Are you done?'

'Just a moment.' She turned back to the old farm-wife and quickly counted out the money for another bag of traveler's bread without stopping to bargain any further. The old woman blinked in surprise, but took the coins-it wasn't that much in excess of what the real price should have been-and gave her the coarse string bag full of rounds of bread in exchange.

'All right,' she said, tying the bread to her belt until she got a chance to put it in her pack. 'Let's go.'

He led her straight out of town, setting a pace that was so fast she had to really stretch her legs to keep up with him, until he finally slowed when they were well out of sight of the last of the buildings. She tugged at his arm, forcing him to slow still further. 'All right!' she exclaimed, catching sight of the rage on his face, now that he was no longer having to wear a polite mask. 'What happened?'

'I was told by the Priest,' he said, tightly, 'that we were vagabonds and tramps. He told me that trash such as you and I weren't fit to even set foot on sacred ground, much less participate in the sacrament of marriage. He further told me that if we didn't want him to call the Sire's watch to have us both pilloried, even though you weren't even there, that we'd better take ourselves out of town.' He took a deep breath, and let it out in a long sigh. 'There was a great deal more that he said, and I won't repeat it.'

The look on his face alarmed her. 'You didn't do anything to him-'

'Oh, I wanted to throw him into the duck pond on the green,' Talaysen replied, and the rage slowly eased out of him. 'But I didn't. I did something that was a lot worse.' He began to smile, then, and the more he thought about whatever it was that he'd done, the more he smiled.

She had a horrified feeling that he had done something that really would get them pilloried, and her face must have reflected that, because he tossed back his head and laughed.

'Oh, don't worry. I didn't do anything physical. But it will be a very long time before he insults another traveling musician.' He waited, the smile still on his face, for her to ask the obvious question.

'Well, what did you do?' she asked impatiently, obliging him.

'I informed him that he had just insulted Master Bard Gwydain-and I proved who I was with this.' He reached into his pocket and extracted the medallion of Guild membership that she had only seen on satin ribbons about the necks of the Guild Masters at the trials. This medallion was tarnished, and it no longer hung from a bright, purple satin ribbon, but there was no mistaking it for the genuine article.

A Master's medallion. The Priest must have been just about ready to have a cat.

He handed it to her; she turned it over, and there was his name engraved on it. She gave it back to him without a word.

'I don't think it ever occurred to him to question the fact that I had this,' Talaysen continued, with satisfaction. 'I mean, I could have stolen it-but the fact that I had puffed myself up like the proud, young, foolish peacock I used to be probably convinced him that it, and I, were genuine. He started gaping like a stranded fish. Then he went quite purple and tried to apologize.'

'And?' she prompted.

'Well, I was so angry I didn't even want to be in the same town with him,' Talaysen said, with a glance of apology to her. 'I informed him that if he heard a song one day about a Priest so vain and so full of pride that he fell into a manure-pit because he wouldn't listen to a poor man's warning, he would be sure and recognize the description of the Priest if he looked into a mirror. Then I told him that I wouldn't be wedded by him or in his chapel if the High King himself commanded it, I shoved him away, and I left him on the floor, flapping his sleeves at me and still babbling some sort of incoherent nonsense.'

'I wouldn't be wedded by a toad like that if it meant I'd never be wedded,' she said firmly. 'And if that's the attitude of their Priest, we'd better tell the rest of the Free Bards that Brughten is probably not a good place to stop. The Priest generally sets the tone for the whole village, and if this one hates minstrels, he could make a lot of trouble for our folk.'

'I'm sorry, though-' he said, still looking guilty. 'I never meant to deprive you of your wedding.'

'Our wedding. And I really don't care, my love-' It gave her such a thrill to be able to say the words 'my love,' that she beamed at him, and he relaxed a bit. 'I told you before. Amber showed me a lot of things; one of them was that there are plenty of people who have the 'proper' appearance who aren't fit to clean a stable, and more who that fat Priest would pillory, who have the best, truest hearts in the world.' She touched his hand, and he caught hers in his. A delightful shiver ran down her back. 'I don't care. You love me, I love you, and if a ceremony means that much to you, we'll get one of your Gypsy friends to wed us. It will be just as valid and binding, and more meaningful than anything that fat lout could have done.'

She looked up at his green, green eyes, now shadowed, and started to say something more-when a dark cloud behind his head, just at the tree line, caught her eye. And instead of continuing her reassurance, she said, 'What's more, we have a bit more to worry about than one stupid Priest. Look there-'